


30 Seconds of Clarity

by Annie17851



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Future Fic, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-13
Updated: 2014-12-13
Packaged: 2018-03-01 08:18:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2766128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Annie17851/pseuds/Annie17851
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lucifer is free, and before another battle at Stull Cemetery, Sam Winchester watches his companions.</p>
            </blockquote>





	30 Seconds of Clarity

**Author's Note:**

> Lucifer is free, and before another battle at Stull Cemetery, Sam Winchester watches his companions.

30 Seconds of Clarity

 

The air is cold, that cold wet that covers you like a blanket you don’t want. 

Stull Cemetery is the same bleak place it was so many years ago, when Sam threw Lucifer into the cage. Lucifer is out now. Adam is dead, so Michael is as well, and now Lucifer is determined to ‘inherit the Earth.’ 

There is no one left to stop him except two brothers and a fallen angel.

It’s Christmas Day, and it’s snowing, the Universe’s vain attempt to make something beautiful out of the dead and barren thing that is Stull Cemetery.

Sam watches. Everything. He takes his gaze away from the band of figures appearing over a hill at the far end of the cemetery. He wants to look at the two men beside him for what he assumes is the last time. 

Crystal snowflakes drift down from the leaden sky and land gently on Castiel’s head. They melt and die slowly in the ebony hair on the angel’s head, and Sam dies a little bit himself at the sight. A slight, cold breeze pushes a few more icy flakes into the angel’s face and some of them stick to the stubble on Cas’s determined jaw, melting into chilly wet spots even faster than those that had landed on his head. Cas is standing between Sam and his brother, body tensed and braced for combat, ever the guardian angel. He has a hand on Dean’s and Sam’s backs confidently, a solemn promise to fight with them to the inevitable end. 

Sam looks over Castiel’s head at his brother, whose light brown hair is similarly dotted with the wet marks of dying snowflakes. Dean has one hand resting on Castiel’s shoulder, gripping tightly, bunching the snow-dampened material of the trench coat. Dean’s attention is riveted to the approaching figures, and his grip tightens perceptibly on the demon knife in his right hand. 

Castiel has no weapon, as he is a weapon himself. The angel is looking from one to the other of the brothers, his gaze holding on Dean just a bit longer. Sam can see the want to say something in both men’s faces, but he knows the only words that will be exchanged between Dean and the angel will be silent ones. 

Sam has a huge gun in his left hand and pockets full of various knives, but his right hand is empty, so he reaches over and places his hand on top of Dean’s, on Castiel’s shoulder. 

Dean turns his head away from the approaching horde and his eyes meet Sam’s in silent brotherhood, years of memories flowing unspoken between them. Dean raises the demon knife in quiet salute to his baby brother.

“Bitch,” Dean says steadily.

“Jerk,” Sam responds, tears in his eyes. 

The Righteous Man, The Boy King and the Fallen Angel look at each other one more time and then head into battle.


End file.
